Great Start, Better Finish

Running late, as usual (why don't I just change start-up time so I can be "on time"), I was still in the barn when my cellphone rang.  I answered without looking to see the caller and was mightily surprised that it was my middle son, Pete.  Better yet, he said his plans had changed and he (and maybe my grandson, Jake) would be coming up for Thanksgiving after all!  That means my entire crew will be together for the holiday and makes me one happy mama.  What a great way to start the day.

Back to the goats and the phone rang again.  Milking one-handed, I answered.  It was Linda.  A customer in her store was in need of goat milk for some newborn puppies whose mother had developed milk fever, a common calcium deficiency after giving birth.  We made arrangements for a pick-up later.

I find I can text and milk at the same time, which is a good thing, because I was still at it when I got a message from my daughter.  By this time, I was laughing.  Maybe the goats weren't because everything was somewhat delayed, but what're ya gonna do?

Back up at the house, the lady with the puppies came for milk, bringing a Perrier bottle, a plastic soft drink bottle, and what looked like a small pickle jar.  I suggested she find some Mason jars for next time.  Small-mouth bottles are impossible to clean thoroughly.

Spiffed up, I made the trek down to Cameron Park.  Grocery shopping took longer than expected because, in my lengthy absence, they'd moved everything in the store and required many trips up and down aisles with many returns and go-backs.  Wearing a new set of bibbies, I had to smile when a woman walked past and said, "I really like your overalls.  I used to wear them all the time."  It's not the first time I've had comments on my attire and it always makes me smile.

Imagine coming up the driveway and seeing a spike-horn buck standing silhouetted against this gorgeous sunset.  He bounded off into the south pasture before I could snap a photo.  The girls were standing at the corner of their pen, wondering when they could go to bed.  Without taking time to unload the truck, I headed toward the barn.

In the short while it took to tuck the goats in, the colors had started to change as I walked back up the path.

Like a slide show, the sky became more and more beautiful.  It took seven trips to unload almost everything out of the truck, but who could complain with a view like this?  Cat litter and two cases of beer could wait.

This was the last shot, the brightest blaze fading to pink, before I closed the truck doors and went in to face the multitude of grocery bags on every counter in the kitchen.

This is the staging area for Thanksgiving dinner.  It does not include refrigerator items which include six pounds of butter, four pounds of margarine, celery, three bags of cranberries, and two pounds of bacon, or ten pounds of potatoes in the bin, etc., etc., nor the 23-plus pound turkey in the outside fridge.  I hope there will be enough.  Inspector Celeste is on the job.

It was a better-than-good day.